


Resentment

by BlitchyProse (HisQueenInTheNorth)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Comfort, Drama, F/M, Hurt, Insecurities, Modern AU, resentment lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisQueenInTheNorth/pseuds/BlitchyProse
Summary: Jon and Sansa have some marital woes in this modern Au
Relationships: Jon Snow & Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 35
Kudos: 76





	Resentment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [manowrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manowrites/gifts).



> Hey everyone. First I wanna shout out the tumblr user @alwaysjonsa. They wanted a cheating Au fic inspired by the song resentment by Beyoncé. Second shout out goes to my tumblr friend @joeyava for her words of encouragement. I swear every time we chat I leave the conversation with more confidence in my writing and plots and sub plots. You’re amazing! Now keep in mind this is my first one shot and my first Au. Take it easy on me in the comments people!

Sansa

“What’s her name?” She waits for him to answer. To say something. Anything. “It doesn’t matter. She didn’t mean anything.” The timbre of his voice goes through her, stirring her belly and sending shivers through her. _Stupid._ The thought comes to her and she’s ashamed, because she is foolish, she’d been a fool for him.

She tries to gather herself. She tries to stop the tears from falling. She blinks several times to clear her eyes, but tears have a funny way of clogging your nose and making your throat burn.

“So you fucked a woman who means nothing to you?” She intends to sound cold and unaffected, but the words come out in a strangled whisper, choked with emotion. “I don’t know what’s worse, Jon. The fact that you say you love me, or that you say she means nothing?” She’s crying now. She can feel her world crumbling, heartbreaking with every breath she takes.

With every breath she can see him, touching and kissing and fucking a shadow. A nameless, faceless end to their marriage. “Sansa, please.” It sounds painful, he sounded like seeing her like this hurt. _What’s his hurt compared to mine?_

“Why? Is it because you don’t find me attractive anymore?” She could barely say the words as her hands went to her belly. She wrapped her arms around herself as tremors and sobs racked her body. He moved to steady her, to maybe place a hand on her back to comfort her. But nothing he could do short of unfucking that stranger would make it better.

He tried anyway. “Sansa, it’s nothing you did or didn’t do. It’s me, I’m a fuck up. I fuck everything up.” He looks as if his heart is breaking, but how can his heart be breaking, when hers laid in pieces at his feet? “So if it wasn’t me then why? Why build us up to tear us down? Why would you do this? Make me fall in love with you? You said you’d never hurt me, Jon. You _promised_ you’d never cheat on me. You made me fall in love with a song. It wasn’t real, none of it.”

Sansa snatched herself away from him to curl into herself on the opposite end of the bed. The tears never stopped. “Sansa, I’m sorry.” He laid just hand a on her hip, and she shuddered. No matter the circumstance, her body always responded to his. Something they both reveled in. In this moment it was a betrayal, as she wondered if the woman he slept with responded the same.

“Don’t touch me,” she choked out. He pulled his hand back and immediately her skin aches for his touch, which only sickened her more and her sobs became audible choking noises. The bed shook with her grief. After a while she felt his weight shift as he got off the bed. She didn’t turn around. She knew he was leaving. Still, she cried harder when his footsteps led him away from her, out of their front door. Cried even harder when the garage door opened and his car pulled out.

She cried until she fell asleep.

Jon

_“Congratulations, Jon and Daenerys. You two have just managed to secure the biggest land parcels for the Little Bird Casino.” Their boss, Varys toasted them, delicate hands around a champagne flute, save for his pinky. He did everything in a delicate manner, even his threats were thinly veiled and concealed with genial smiles. “Jon, whats five percent of twelve and a half million?” The man asked with a sly smile on his face. Daenerys’ eyes roved him like she was starved and it made him uncomfortable. He swallowed his celebratory champagne in a gulp and poured another, finishing that in a similar fashion, again pouring another._

_“Somewhere around six hundred thousand,” he was being humble. He never liked to brag. Daenerys slinked over to him and put her arm in him. “Six hundred twenty five thousand to be exact. You’re way too modest Jon.” She winked and gave his bicep a squeeze._

_“Daenerys has managed to close the better deal, costing us less money, but the project would not be green lit without the Bolton property, Jon. Great work.” Varys looked around Jons’ spartan office. It was the next biggest after his. Corner, with an Eastern wall of glass, and breathtaking view. He had a desk, a wall mounted television and a sofa. The only personal touches were his wedding picture and a framed sonogram on his desk._

_“There’s another bottle of you kids find yourselves celebrating a little longer. I’m off to see a bird about a song.” He let his eyes linger on Daenerys and her exposed cleavage, before giving Jon a knowing look, and took his leave._

_“You men never cease to amaze me, look at you, getting all the credit when I’m the one who wined and dined and primped and pampered and flattered and smiled til my cheeks felt like they could fall off my face. And you, you just waltz in with your penis and they sign on the dotted line. Sometimes I really hate men, and the world they built for us women.” She chuckled then, it was almost innocent. Her voice almost sounded like bells, if it wasn’t always laced with cynicism and a healthy disdain for almost all things._

_He sighed and ran his fingers through his curls, a bit overgrown and unkempt with the stress of closing this deal. He looked at his wedding picture and remembered why he was doing this. The early mornings and late nights. Even when he was home he was at a desk in front of a computer, two phones on his desk, and a pile of paperwork._

_Sansa never complained. She always had a meal or kind word for him. When he started to doubt himself, she was there to encourage him and make him smile. With the commission, he would buy her a home, and give her and his children the security he never had as a child. A home. Two parents that loved them._

_“I’m sorry, Varys is a bit of a minimizer, but you worked hard Dany. Like you always do, and it didn’t go unnoticed by me.”_

_She smiled then. She loved to be praised, it fed her insatiable ego. She moved in closer to him. So close he could smell the cinnamon on her breath and exotic perfume that clung to her like a second skin. She invaded his space and his senses. His heart hammered in his chest and he took a step back. She stepped in closer._

_“You’re everything I admire in a man. You’re handsome, smart, quiet, but outspoken when you need to be. People respect you. Too bad you’re spoken for.” She spoke the last words as she fingered his wedding ring. She parted her lips and ran her tongue over them, and his cock strained against his pants. He swallowed his champagne and went behind his desk to shuffle some papers and gather his belongings, hoping she would get the hint and leave._

_She didn’t. She sat on his desk. Her back was to him and it was all he could do to keep gathering his folders and not stare at her exposed back. Her dress was cut low, almost baring her backside, accentuating her slim waist and shapely hips. He swallowed his desire and palmed his keys. “Well, it’s late, I should be going.” She laughed. “Yes you should.” She hopped down and sauntered our of his office, stopping at the door and looking at him seductively over her shoulder. “Til tomorrow Snow.” And she was gone._

If he was an honest man, he would say it started that night three months ago. He remembered coming home that night and feasting on Sansa on the kitchen counter. She had been washing dishes in one of his t-shirts. He walked in and wordlessly sat her on the counter, moving her panties to the side and lapping at her cunt like a starving man. He stroked her slow and hard, chanting her name, trying to ground himself to erase the silver haired beauty from his mind. It didn’t work.

All the late nights in the office, Daenerys short dresses, and his dick that got hard when the wind blew was his undoing. Daenerys would cross and uncross her legs, making it a point to show him she went without panties. Or she would brush her breasts against him. He requested a transfer, another partner, but he was never reassigned. Varys called them the golden pair. She and Jon were the stars of the firm. And now he drove with no clear destination and his wife cried alone in their bed.

The sound of her cries stripped him of any excuses he could make. Laid bare the love and trust she had in him and just how badly he fucked it all up. He was always fucking things up. He could have crumbled when he heard the pain in her voice. _Why?_ She asked. And he couldn’t tell her why. God, she thought he didn’t desire her, questioned his love for her, and really why wouldn’t she? It didn’t take much to find himself between the thighs of Daenerys, pounding her into oblivion.

He didn’t lie, she meant nothing to him. He’s fucked her, and washed her scent off him. He’d fucked her and gone home to his wife. He’s fucked her and ate the meal that was prepared for him with love. He’s fucked her and he couldn’t look his wife in the eye. He was afraid she would see it on him, the infidelity. Was afraid she’d smell her on him, no matter how he bathed.

He became distant, stopped making love to her out of guilt and confusion. And the shit with Dany got out of hand. He was so stupid. He should have told Sansa everything after the first time, and maybe there wouldn’t have been a second, third or fourth time.

He stopped at a red light and punched the steering wheel in frustration. What kind of man cheats on his pregnant wife. He closed his eyes as he felt the tears building and a blaring horn jarred him out of his self pity. He punched the gas and sped on. He realized he had nowhere to go but home. So home he went.

Sansa took pride in her home. They’d closed on the property two months ago, and the best way to describe it was her dream home. High ceilings, ceiling to floor windows on the ground floor, hardwood floors, and a great room. She knew this was the home she would raise a family and create memories in. Only now they were creating bad memories. She was in the kitchen on hands and knees scrubbing the already spotless floor. Her eyes blurred with tears, as she scrubbed. They fell and mixed with the soap she used to clean and she thought this was a proper anointing for her home. Pain and tears.

She remembered hearing her mother cry over her fathers infidelities as a child. She tried to hide it, and smile through her tears, but Sansa knew better. Her mothers words come to mind now. _‘He’s just a man child, and sometimes they make mistakes. It’s a smart and strong woman that can overlook those mistakes for the benefit of her family. Sometimes women have to fight for their marriage. Your father comes home to me. I take comfort in that.’_ And she smiled and patted her head, but the tears never left her eyes.

Sansa sat back from her scrubbing and stroked her belly. Her daughter kicked and squirmed relentlessly and the current assault on her kidneys was too much. She left the bucket and brush where it was and sat at the table. He’d been gone for almost four hours. She wondered if he was with _her_. The shadow without a name, without a face and she screamed.

She made up her mind in that moment to fight for her marriage. She wouldn’t let some nameless, faceless woman destroy what they’ve built, erase the love they’d shared and steal her daughters family before she was born. If Jon could be honest with her, she could forgive him and they could start over. _Why am I the only one fighting? Why didn’t he fight harder to keep his dick to himself?_ She thought bitterly.

Her eyes fill again and she’s just so angry and hurt. She wants to scream and destroy all his shit. She wants to pull his hair and scratch his eyes out. She wants to hurt him as he hurt her. But she quick washes her face in the sink when she hears the garage door open. And she’s confused by the feeling of relief she gets when she sees him. _He came home, at least he’s not with her._ She didn’t want to see him, didn’t want him near her, but she was glad he was there. And she felt weak and stupid again. Love makes you weak and foolish.

“You came back.” It wasn’t a question as much a declaration, but the underlying ‘will you stay’ wasn’t lost on him. “I came back, unless you want me to leave.” He dropped his keys on the counter, shuffling his feet unsure what to say or do. He moved to make contact with her, but she pulled away and he looked hurt.

“I put some coffee on. We need to talk before we go any further.” She took two coffee cups from the cabinet and filled them. Jon watched as she put just the right amount of cream and sugar in his and his throat tightened. She sat and motioned for him to do the same.

“You need to be honest with me. About _everything.”_ He nodded his head. She couldn’t look directly at him, it hurt too much. So she looked past him when she asked “What’s her name?”

Jon

Her voice was so small. He could tell she was holding back tears. But he would answer all her questions. His marriage depended on it. He couldn’t lose her, he _couldn’t._ Her and the baby, they were everything to him. “Daenerys.” She shuddered and took a sip of her coffee. “Is she beautiful?” Her voice breaks on the last word. This feeling growing in his chest is guilt and shame. But what does it say about him that he didn’t feel these things so strongly when he was cheating. He looked at her, willing her to look his way. He wanted her to see him. Her eyes never left her cup.

“Yes.” She inhales sharply. “Did you enjoy fucking her?” He notices a single tear tracking down her cheek, with her head bowed it plops on the table. He doesn’t know how to answer that. He came. It felt good, fucking her, but it didn’t. He took her body in anger and frustration. He battered her walls, and left bruises on her body. He never made love to her. He almost never looked in her eyes. He fucked her facedown almost every time, refusing to kiss her or look in her eyes. He wanted to tell her that. Tell her that he just used her body. But he didn’t think it would make a difference. “I did. I finished, I mean.” Sansa sucked her teeth.

“How many times did you sleep with her? Has she been in our home? Is she the reason why you were always out late? Why you’ve grown distant from me?” The desperation and pain in her tone tears at something in him. How many times did he fuck her over the last three months? Two or ten it doesn’t matter. He was a liar and a cheater. “I don’t know. I don’t know how many times it was. But I’ve never brought her here.” He twists his hands and fiddles with the cup. He’s nervous and ashamed.

“So more than once then.” She breathes out a shaky sigh and he swears he can hear the resignation in her voice. It’s flat and cold. No longer thick with emotion. The thought scares him. “Did you fuck her so many times you lost track? Would you say five times, or fifty?” Shes all ice now. Hard and cold and unfeeling. He feels as if he’s being lobotomized under her scrutiny. “Sansa, don’t. I don’t want to cause you any more pain,” he said.

She laughed then. It was hard and bitter. “Too late for that. I’m hurt. And I need to know.” She crosses her arms waiting for him to answer. “I slept with her more than five times, less than twenty. But I didn’t distance myself from you because I favored her over you, I was guilty and I was scared you’d find out. I wanted to spare you any pain. It just kind of happened. And then it got out of control.” She looked at him then, and softened a bit. “What did you do when you fucked her. Did you worship her body, did you fuck her like you fuck me?” He shook his head. “I make love to you Sansa. I love you. What we have is- when we make love it’s a physical manifestation of what we feel for each other. It’s tender. It’s love. Dany- it wasn’t that. It was base. It was unfeeling. It just was. And I know I’m not explaining it properly and it probably doesn’t make sense. But she’ll never be a threat to you.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. When you fucked her with your wedding ring, she became a threat to us. To everything we’ve built.” She holds her head in her hands for a moment. “Can you stop? Can this be stopped? Or is it so forgone that you can’t resist her?” She’s crying now, coming undone.

He rises and kneels before her. She tries to turn away but he clutches her hands and forces her to look at him. “Look at me Sansa. Love, look at me.” She looks, “Don’t call me that,” she says through trembling lips. “But you are. You’re my love. My _only_ love. It’s stopped already. I stopped it.” He said. “Please believe me that it’s done. Please Sansa, forgive me. I will do any and everything to gain your trust back.”

She sighs. “That’s the funny thing about trust. It takes almost nothing to gain trust, but once it’s gone, it’ll take moving mountains to gain it back.”

She pushed her chair back to get up. “Well then I will move mountains for you.” He picked her up and carried her to their bed. Her face was buried in his chest and he felt her tears soaking his shirt, felt her sobs racking her body.

He was such a fuck up. He had a way of fucking _everything_ up.

Sansa

Dinner was ready, and the baby was put down to sleep. He was an hour late and she began to stew. _He’s probably out with some whore._ She thought darkly. Almost a year since he cheated on her and Sansa still couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. She went through his phone, his email, combed his car while he slept. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she didn’t want to find it. She spent the last year waiting for another shoe to drop, or another affair to upend their lives.

The garage door opening fills her with relief and for a moment she forgot her bleak thoughts.

“Hello love,” he called as he dropped his keys on the counter. She smiled at him. He hugged her and nuzzles her neck. _Did he greet her this way?_ She shook her head in attempt to clear her mind. “Dinner smells great.” He smiled and slipped off his shoes. “I’m going to shower then I’ll join you, hmm.” Her eyes narrow at that. Was he sleeping with someone that he needs to shower right away. “It’s late and it’s already cooling off. Why don’t you wash your hands and eat with me while it’s still warm.” She didn’t wait for him to answer as she portioned his food on a plate and set it at his place on the table.

He sighed, realizing the misstep in his words. “Sure love. We can eat now. And maybe we can shower together after.” He said it with a smile and she smiled back. They ate and made small talk and when they finished, Jon offered to wash the dishes. He was good like that. Considerate. When Lya was born he would walk with her at night when she was colicky and Sansa was exhausted. He changed diapers, made bottles and kept the house clean when Sansa had her baby blues the first few weeks after her birth. Maybe it was baby and husband blues. Her emotions were all over the place and that’s when the pain was still raw.

“You do that while I get the shower ready,” she said.

Jon

He made love to her slow and steady. Every kiss was planted with love. Every touch that ghosted her skin was desperate to keep her close to him. He breathed in her scent. She smelled of lavender and breast milk and their daughter. She smelled of home. He kissed her belly and the shiny scars that made her self conscious, but he loved them. They made her a mother. He climbed between her thighs and entered her, his gaze never leaving hers. Every time they made love he poured everything into it. He wanted her to know how much he cherished her. He was no poet and the words never came easy to him, but the physical manifestation of his love for her knew no bounds and here he was king.

What’s a king without religion? He worshipped at her temple, as if she was a goddess made flesh. He supped on her cunt until she tore at his hair and her thighs quaked around his head. He suckled at her breasts until her breath hitched and her body had the sheen of her desire all over. He nipped the sensitive spot behind her ear until her breath came in pants. He never sought his own pleasure until she shattered under his tentative ministrations several times.

Their lovemaking that night was no exception. The room filled with the throaty sounds of her pleasure. His name became a chant, driving him on, and when he finally reached his peak he called her name and whispered the prayer that became his declaration every time he spent. “Sansa, I love you. Only you.” That was his way of letting her know he was hers and hers alone.

Sansa

No matter how much she tried to forget, to move on, every time they made love was like pulling a scab off an old wound.

When he kissed her neck she wondered if he knew Daenerys’ sensitive spots. When he tasted her she wondered if he did that with her too. When she rode him with everything she had, staking her claim on him, she wondered if she was better than her. She raked his back with her nails, and left marks all along his neck, so that if he ever slept with another woman, they’d know he belonged to someone else. It was a futile attempt, she knew, but something changed in her the day Jon told her he’d cheated on her.

Some days she stood in front of the mirror, looking at all the ways bearing his child changed her body. She wondered if he still found her attractive. She’d lost all the weight, but the skin on her belly was a little looser, hips a little wider and breasts heavier. She lived in fear that someone younger, tighter and prettier than her would come tear her life apart. No matter which method she used to measure herself, she always found herself lacking. It was a terrible feeling to have. She never felt good enough. She racked her brain wondering what it was she did or didn’t do, that made him cheat. But then she remembered her mother telling her to fight, and fight she did. But was love supposed to be this never ending battle?

They lay there, spent and sweaty from their lovemaking, Jon drawing lazy circles on her hip. She wanted to find comfort in his touch, but it only made her more self conscious. Despite the sweat, she pulled the sheet over her. “Penny for your thoughts,” he said to her.

She scrambled to find a lie, to ask him anything other than the questions that have been plaguing her: “I was just thinking about my day tomorrow. Lya has a doctors visit and I have some errands to run is all.” She placed her hand on his chest and kissed his nose. “What time is it? I can take her if you need some alone time.” She smiled. “It’s at 11. I doubt your day is that early. But thank you.” He brings her closer to him and kisses her forehead. “Ok. Well do those errands include retail therapy. There’s a company fundraiser. Everyone is bringing their spouses or partners. I thought I told you but maybe it slipped my mind. It’s next Friday.”

“You told me, I already have a dress and Arya and Gendry are coming over to watch Lya. She says it’s practice for when the baby comes.” She laughed softly, thinking about her willful and wild sister, finally agreeing to marry her childhood sweetheart. _I bet Gendry would never cheat_.

“One of the many reasons I love you.” They lay there, suspended in their thoughts as they drifted off to sleep.

Jon

She looked a vision in a low cut, backless silver gown that showed off her curvy figure. The low neckline almost made him forget the event and strip her there. Her hair was pinned up in an elaborate style that showed off her long neck. She had the diamond studs and necklace that he gifted her with after Lya was born. It was simple but elegant and she looked like a mood goddess. He could t wait to get this blasted event over with so he could ravish her afterwards.

“Jon, you’re drooling.” Arya mocked him but it was true. She slapped his back. “You don’t look too shabby either.” Gendry held Lya and took in the couple. “We’re about the luckiest bastards alive. Sansa you look a vision.” Jon noticed Sansa lit up under Gendry’s compliment and decided to offer one of his own. He looked her up and down once more, barely trying to hide the desire in his eyes. “I don’t doubt I will be walking in with the most beautiful woman in the room.” She cast her eyes down, demurely and his heart soared when he saw the rosy tint creeping from her chest to her face. He offered his arm and they walked towards the door together. “Text me if you need anything or if you can’t get her settled,” she called as they walked out. “We won’t!” Arya called back.

Their car waited for them at the curb. Jon opened the door for her and slid in. His hand creeped up her thigh. “Don’t start something we can’t finish in this car,” she said, playfully slapping his hand. “I wouldn’t dare. But the ride home is a different story altogether.” She laughed and the sound had his heart soaring.

They made rounds around the room, greeting Jon’s partners and their spouses. It was tiring. After two hours of false pleasantries Sansa was ready to go home and make love to her husband and stand over her daughters crib for a moment like she did every night.

Her feet hurt and her breasts were near to bursting. After being seated at their table and choosing an entrée, she excused herself to hand express and relieve her aching breasts. As she got up she noticed a strikingly beautiful woman watching her and then the woman walked in the direction of their table. The woman made eye contact with her for a brief moment and Sansa swore she smirked at her. It left her unsettled, but instead of thinking the worst, she chose to brush it off.

The walk to the restroom was quick and her feet were thankful for it. She went into a stall and did what she had to do. She didn’t need to express much, just enough to get the knots out of her breasts. She finished and made her way back to their table.

She stopped short seeing the silver haired woman in her seat. Leaning in a little too closely to Jon. She touched his arm lightly and Jon visibly stiffened. She watched as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, nervously scanning the room. The feeling in the pit of Sansa’s stomach grew from suspicion, to dread, to realization to anger. She stalked over to the table and cleared her throat. “I only left to use the ladies room and it seems my seat has been taken already.” Her tone seemed innocent enough, but Jon knew Sansa and he paled at the ice in her voice.

The woman chuckled. “Forgive me sweetling, I was just catching up with my former coworker. It’s been almost a year since we’ve spoken. You must be his lovely wife I’ve heard so much about.” Sana’a didn’t miss the amusement in her eyes or the barely concealed smirk. She knew. Deep in her bones this was the woman whom Jon risked everything for. And could she blame him? The woman was stunning. Sansa laughed. “I’m Sansa. But partners you say? I’ve heard nothing about you.” Sansa doesn’t miss the quick flash of anger in her eyes, nor the deep blush that graces her face. “Well you know how men are. They keep secrets.” She smiled sweetly at Jon and stood, eyeing Sansa. “Well, the food will be out shortly, better get back to my table. It was _lovely_ meeting you Sansa.” She turned and sauntered back to her table. Every step oozing sex and seduction.

Sansa sat and said nothing the rest of the evening.

Jon

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Don’t come over. Don’t._ He tried to Will her away but she still stalked over to their table as soon as Sansa got up. “I thought you weren’t coming. You never sent your rsvp in. I checked with Varys. He said you wouldn’t be here.” He said through clenched teeth.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” She played at pouting. “No I’m not. My _wife_ is here. I would have stayed home if i knew you would be here.” She rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to say hello, to see you. The way we ended, it was hard on me. You gave me no explanation. You just stopped. No calls, nothing. So you make a habit of making women fall for you, using their bodies and throwing them away?” He feels himself losing patience. “I never pursued you. You knew i was married. I don’t owe you anything, not an explanation not sensitivity to your feelings. I have a wife, Daenerys. Leave before she gets back.” He never looked at her again. He scanned the crowd looking for Sansa. He felt Daenerys touch his arm and he pulled away sharply. “Don’t cause a scene Jon. I just wanted some closure.” He almost felt sorry for her then. Almost. “Ok. It’s closure you want? I love my wife. What we did was a mistake, one I’m not keen on repeating. I’m sorry if you got hurt in the process but I don’t regret cutting it off. If I never saw you again, I wouldn’t lose any sleep.” Thankfully Sansa approached at that moment and what followed was a clusterfuck of awkwardness and polite insults.

When she finally left he could feel the anger coming off Sansa in waves. As soon as they were done eating he would call the car. He glanced at her and the pain he never wanted to see again was there, and fresh as if it were only yesterday he brought the world down on her head.

The walk outside was long. He could feel the tension thrumming through her body. He gripped her arm tighter, in an attempt to ground her in the here and now. Once outside he turned to her.

“Sansa,” he started but was unable to finish. “Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t tell me you dressed me up to humiliate me. That’s her. Daenerys. I know it is. The way she looked at you, the way she challenged me. Why would you bring me here? And you told me you would be honest with me. I asked you who she was. You never told me you worked with her.” She was shaking now, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the cries that threatened to erupt from her body. “Sansa please. I didn’t know she would be here: I hadn’t seen her in a year. I rejected her. Rejected her so completely that she moved away. You have to believe me. Nothing has happened since the last time.”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You lied and cheated on me for three months. You isolated me when I was pregnant.” Her voice is rising steadily. “You destroyed me. You destroyed us.” She’s screaming now, and they have an audience. “Sansa, calm down.” He implores her to calm down. To lower her voice: but that only angers her further. “Calm down? You want to be calm when the woman you were fucking struts over and shits all over our table? You want me to be calm Jon? You want me to play the dutiful wife while you fuck your coworkers? HA!” She laughs. “Calm down he says.” She says it to herself. Jon is watching her unravel and he’s powerless to do anything. He watches her pace and he prays that their car shows up and fast. “I spent the last three months of my pregnancy miserable and hurting. I wondered who she was, what she looked like. Why was she so special, what did she do to make you forget your love and your vows? Huh? Tell me!!! God damn you, tell me why?” She screams and now she punching and slapping him. And he lets her. Whatever she needs to feel better. “I’ll take your punishment. Do whatever and say whatever, but people are _watching,”_ he said as he grabbed her wrists.

That seemed to register and she stopped. The car pulled up, and not a moment too soon.

They ride in silence for a bit and then his world collapses. “I want a divorce.” She’s not screaming or crying or shaking. She’s calm, eerily so and it chills him to the bone. “Sansa, I’ve been faithful, I surrender my phone, I let you comb my car and everything else. I’ve forfeit any right to privacy so you can see that you can trust me. I come straight home and if I’m running really late I call you. I account for all my movements. I’m doing the work. I swear I am. And you said you forgave me. Please don’t do this. Don’t talk like that. Don’t give up on us.” He’s begging now and he doesn’t care. Pride goeth before a fall and he’s losing his balance. He doesn’t care if the driver can hear him begging.

“You gave up on us. All this time I’ve been competing with a ghost. All this time I harbored hate for this woman. Misplaced anger. You broke your vows. You betrayed my trust. And I tried Jon. I swear i did.” She’s crying again. But this isn’t a grief stricken cry or the sobs of someone who’s lost. These are tears of realization and resignation. He’s never been more terrified in his life. “But the thought of you with her plagued me. She was in bed with us every time we made love. You broke something in me, something that you can’t fix. I’m sorry I lied to you and to me for this long. What you did was unforgivable. And you don’t deserve forgiveness. Why do you get to forget and move on mike nothing ever happened while I carry the scars of your betrayal? My mother said I should fight for my marriage. But why didn’t you fight Jon? I know you’re a man, you’re human, I’m not a fool to think you wouldn’t be attracted to other women. I’m attracted to other men but I would never give myself to someone else. I would never share what we share, what I know you hold sacred with someone else.”

He’s crying now. He has no words to soothe her. Nothing he could say would make it right. And deep down he knows she’s right. She will never be happy, truly happy with him and that’s what breaks him. “Sansa, I’m sorry,” he hung his head and cried.

She held his hand. “I know you are.”

They reach the house and he knows she’s done.

He came home to find her packing. The sight of boxes makes his eyes water. He stands in the entryway to wipe his eyes before he walks into the house proper.

“I meant what I said. You can keep the house. I will get an apartment until we sort this out. And you don’t have to worry. I will take care of you and Lya, always.” The words break him as they leave his lips but at the least he wants consistency for his daughter, and stability for Sansa.

She looked at him, a sad smile on her lips. It wouldn’t feel right without you. We Chose this house together, to be a family. Now I don’t know what we are. But it’s too big for me and Lya alone.” She shivers even though it isn’t cold. “We will always be family Sansa. You will always be home to me. Maybe one day, you can forgive me. Maybe we can start over.” She looks hopeful. “Maybe.” She gets up and grabs Lya from the floor. “Hold your daughter while I shower, you can have the bed tonight, let her sleep with you. We’ll be gone tomorrow.” He stares after her retreating form and wonders if he’ll ever get his family back.

Lya coos and grabs his beard with wet hands and she smiles at him as if he is her entire world. The tears flow freely and he nuzzles his daughter, trying his best to hold it together.

The house is dark and quiet save for Sansa’s sobs. He twists in the bed. He wants to go to her, but she made her boundaries clear that night after the fundraiser. No touching or sex. She didn’t want her feelings to get muddled, and he respects that. He only wants her to be happy and if she can find her happiness away from, he’d let her go without a fight. But it hurt. It hurts so much that she’s slipping away and he can’t even pull her back.

She wants to go to him. It’s the same every night. Her body aches for him, her heart breaks for him but neither one of them can make the first move. She doesn’t want to leave him. Or maybe she does. She doesn’t know what she wants. All she knows is that she loves him. Completely. Even the parts of him that are less than perfect. She misses him. His closeness. The way he smells. Her pillow is soaked with tears and her head aches from crying but she can’t stop. Once she leaves this house she knows she’ll never come back. She prays to whoever is listening that he comes to her. Maybe she pushed him completely away. Ever since that night, he keeps his distance respecting her boundaries. But she wishes he would fight for her. Instead he gave up.

He can’t listen to her crying anymore. He has to say something, do _something._

He got up and walked towards the living room. As he started moving he noticed her cries stopped. The great room is pitch black and he can barely make out her form on the couch but he sits down anyway. He lays a hand on her back and she sobs harder. He pulls her to him and she climbs into his lap. Coming apart. “Sshhh. Don’t cry. Sansa we will figure it out. I promised you that I will take care of you and I meant it.” He strokes her hair and rubs her back. “I don’t want you to go.” His voice breaks. He drags a hand down his face. “I don’t want you to go,” he says again. “I don’t want to go, but I don’t know if I can stay either.” She holds onto him as if he would disappear. She holds him as if she’s trying to ground herself in the here and now. “So don’t go. Please Sansa. Stay with me.”

She sits to face him. “I don’t know if I can. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. And it hurts so much right now. I may never understand why you did what you did. I try and I try Jon. I try to forget this, this cloud that’s settled over us, but I’m scared that I’m too full of resentment. I don’t want to resent you.” He holds her close. “Sansa I deserve every bit of resentment and punishment you throw my way. I’d rather have you love and resent me than nothing at all. I’m willing to do whatever you need. We can go to therapy or I can go to therapy. But please don’t leave me. _Please_ I’m begging you.”

She touches his face and he leans into her hand. They hold hold each other and cry and whisper promises in the dark.

When the sun comes they wake to find themselves entangled on the couch. It’s awkward. He looks at her eyes, still red and puffy from last night and he knows he wants to wake up beside her everyday, and if he’s lucky he’s die on their bed.

“So?” He asks timidly. She runs her hand through his hair. “So, let’s start over. I love you. I want Lya to have her father in her life everyday. I want you in my life everyday.” Her eyes fill with tears and his chest fills with hope. He kisses her, his mouth is tart and so is hers, but they don’t care. The wall of ice she hid behind starts to melt. “We’ll start over.” He said.

He got up to put a pot of coffee on, as he works he glances at her every now and then. She never took her eyes off him. She’s smiling now and so is he. It was their first honest day since their world came tumbling down. Every day going forward would see their world rebuilt. Little by little. No lies. No resentment.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it. And I hated Jon the entire time, but at his essence he’s still a good and love able  
> Person. I wanted samsa to go through all the emotions of a woman that was lied to and cheated on. I wasn’t sure if I would have the stay together but for fucks sake it’s Jonsa people. I feel like true love always wins. And the characters here are human and imperfect. I hope I conveyed it in this story.


End file.
